First Stop: home

One last night turned delirious morning flooded with strobing purple light, friendly sweaty strangers, and $8 bottled water now served in a reduced-waste box.


You’re like a recurring lucid dream, the downstairs neighbor who throws enviable house parties, that art professor with the accent we all have a crush on.

Thank you for shaking me awake at 4am, for reminding me I’m #not40yet, for being the perfect sleepless send-off to my next adventure.




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